


Forget You

by lavendermilk14



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Co-workers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Not Related, Misunderstandings, Office, POV Rey (Star Wars), Pining, Possessive Kylo Ren, Protective Ben Solo, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendermilk14/pseuds/lavendermilk14
Summary: -Office AU, romcom- Ben is the new head of Finance at the publishing house where Rey works. Rey recognises Ben - the problem is that he seems to have no memory of her. Rey wants nothing to do with the rude jerk she remembers from university anyway - but as circumstances keep forcing them together, she learns that Ben might not be the ass she thought he was. At least, not totally.
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 30
Kudos: 76





	1. The Chocolate Croissant

Waking up this morning, I should have known the day was going to go this way.

It had started with my alarm not going off, of course. I woke up to a flashing 7:30 am on my alarm clock and my brain went into immediate overdrive, trying to figure out how to get me looking reasonably presentable and ready for work in the space of half an hour.  
All things considered, I think I did pretty well – showered, dressed in my “slightly-more-effort-than-usual” work outfit (a close-fitting white cashmere jumper tucked into a midi-length brown pencil skirt, complete with my cutest chestnut heeled loafers), and grasping an overflowing KeepCup full of hot vanilla coffee as I slammed the front door of my studio apartment shut on my way out at 8:02, keeping up a slight jog until I was sat safely on my morning train. I had just about enough time to put on some minimal makeup and get my hair into three loose buns down the back of my head before we pulled into my station. I even had time to buy myself a chocolate croissant from my favourite bakery on the way to my office – that is, the offices of First Order Press, the publishing house where I’ve worked for the past two years.  
Unfortunately, that meant that when the new head of Finance I had been forewarned would be starting today was being given his first tour of the office by the Publishing Director for Fiction, during which he would be introduced to everyone on the team, including me, I had approximately half of said chocolate croissant stuffed in my face, and the other half in crumbs down the front of my jumper.  
“Erm – Miss Skywalker.”  
I turn my head slightly, still enjoying a delightful chocolate-and-butter overload, and my eyes meet the unmistakable glare of my boss’s boss, Mr Hux. The Publishing Director for Fiction. How a man with such an apparent lack of joy or imagination ended up packaging stories and fairy tales for a living, I’ll never know. He’s standing next to someone, but I don’t have time to take in their appearance as my mind freezes with panic. The new head of Finance is standing behind me, waiting for me to introduce myself, and I look like an unkept chipmunk.  
My face begins to heat, cheeks still bulging with pastry.  
“Oh – sorry-” It comes out muffled and I curse myself for speaking with my mouth full.  
“You’ll forgive me for assuming you weren’t occupied with anything important.”  
“Ah ha-“ I finally swallow, and, of course, because my life is a complete joke, start coughing violently.  
“…Is she OK?” A slightly familiar voice. Deep, warm, like a fireplace. It makes me blush even harder. He hasn’t even seen my face and he already knows I’m an idiot.  
“I’m so sorry- I’m fine, just, um-“  
I frantically brush crumbs from my front and swallow down a mouthful of lukewarm coffee to wash down the pastry stuck in my throat. I glance at my reflection in my monitor – luckily no chocolate smeared on my chin, just a bright pink blush of pure humiliation staining my cheeks – before jumping out of my chair, spinning around, and turning to face my new co-worker with my hand outstretched and the biggest, most (hopefully) charming grin I can muster.  
My eyeline meets a broad chest, lightly straining against the confines of an entirely black, clearly expensive, suit. I exhale with a surprised “huff” sound, before slowly craning my neck to meet the gaze of this stranger, this apparent giant with the fireplace voice.  
Deep brown eyes bore down into mine, set in a face that reminds me more of a Greek statue than a human man. A strong, straight nose, soft lips, those cheekbones-  
I realize with a jolt – I know this man. I’m sure I do. Not the lightly curly and dark shoulder length hair or the expensive suit, perhaps, but those eyes –  
“Uh – hello.”  
I snap out of my trance, blushing even harder. I readjust my outstretched hand to actually be in line with his own and give it my best firm-but-not-too-firm handshake. His fingers swallow mine up (even his hands!), making me feel slightly like a Polly Pocket.  
“Ha – hi! I’m so sorry, I promise I do more than scoff pastries at my desk! And that I’m usually a bit more presentable – I’m one of the editorial assistants for Fiction!”  
I falter and stop speaking– I still can’t place him exactly, so I’m hesitant to mention that I recognize him. Ever since I first met his eyeline, his expression has been one of slight surprise, a hint of confusion, and something else I can’t quite identify – perhaps curiosity. Now, he presses his lips together and nods in acknowledgement – but he doesn’t smile back. And there is no flash of recognition in his own expression. My stomach drops ever so slightly. Yep, he definitely thinks I’m a complete idiot, and whoever he is, he clearly has no idea who I am.  
“Yes, hi – you’re, uh, you’re fine. Ben Solo, the new head of Finance.”  
That name. I do know this man.  
My stomach drops. Before I can stop my stupid mouth, I’m babbling.  
“Yes, I know! From the, ah, the email they sent around about you. But also, from university! I’m Rey Skywalker, we were in Eighteenth Century Literature together!”  
He furrows his brow. “Oh, uh-”  
“We didn’t really, uh, talk that much, or anything, but we-”  
His voice turns sharp. “No, sorry. I’m afraid I don’t remember you at all. Maybe you’re confusing me with someone else.”  
I bite my bottom lip and drop my eyes to my feet. Of course – why would he remember me? 

*

With my huge vintage jumpers and giant glasses, regularly looking like I’d just rolled out of my bed and into seminars, I blended completely into the background. I didn’t have any friends, so I would arrive early and sit in the corner alone, patiently waiting for the professor to arrive while everyone else chatted with one another around me. Why would he remember me?  
But of course, I remember him. He would stroll in just before class started in a black fencing team hoodie, sit down exactly opposite me, and write quietly in his notebook until the professor began talking. I was solitary out of rejection, but you could tell he was alone out of choice. Girls would often turn to him with a sly smile, asking him questions I couldn’t hear. He would give a blunt one-word answer and get back to his writing, his wrist moving so quickly across the page it was almost a blur.  
Of course, I remember him. He always fascinated me. There was just something about him. Quiet, but with something deeper burning under the surface. I wanted to know him. Honestly, I wanted to be his friend.  
My heart sinks as I remember. Oh, God.

It’s all coming back to me. On the last day of classes, I had plucked up all my courage and had approached him as he finished packing his bag to leave. Everyone else had left in groups, on their way to the pub for celebratory drinks. I was determined to make a friend on my course, and more than that, I was intrigued by Ben. I wanted to know what he was scribbling about so furiously in his notebook every lesson. He was sliding that very black Moleskine notebook into his satchel when his eyes met mine.  
“Hi!” I beamed down at him.  
“Uh- hi.”  
“I’m Rey.”  
“Yeah, I – I’m Ben.”  
“I know. I was just coming over to ask-”  
At that moment, my phone starting ringing – for some reason my ringer was actually on and so my phone’s tinny rendition of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer theme echoed around the empty classroom. I let out an embarrassed laugh and held out my phone in front of me to see who was calling. My best friend Finn’s face filled the screen – my contact photo for him was from last summer, both of us a tight hug, wearing matching bear onesies and giant grins. His boyfriend Poe had taken the picture, rolling his eyes at us good-naturedly. “I swear, sometimes hanging out with you two is like looking after a couple of hyperactive kids.”  
I rejected the call from Finn– it was probably just him calling to complain about the new episode of The Great British Bake Off, so could definitely wait – but I noticed Ben’s eyes glance down at my phone screen as I do. His lips pressed together slightly, and his brow furrowed.  
“Sorry, uh – anyway, I was just coming over to ask if you’d ever want to – I don’t know, hang out, get a drink maybe?”  
His eyes narrowed slightly – he was looking at me like I’d suddenly started speaking Klingon. “Sorry – you’re asking if I will hang out with you?”  
“Uh- well yeah. I was- that’s what I was thinking.”  
A muscle in his jaw twitched, and I watched something come down over his eyes.  
“No, thanks.” His tone was sharp as a knife.  
He slammed his bag closed and got up, pushing past me to the door. My mouth dropped open and a rush of breath left my stomach. My brain couldn’t compute his last words, so I just stared after him idiotically.  
“’No thanks?’” I finally managed.  
“Nope. Not interested. Have a good life.”  
My face burned. I couldn’t believe the sensitive, interesting boy in my mind was actually just a callous jerk. An undercurrent of anger entered my voice.  
“Well, OK. Sorry for trying to be friends. No need to be so mean about it.”  
He froze in the doorway, and I couldn’t help but take notice of how he filled it with his broad frame. I saw his knuckles whiten as he clenched the strap of his satchel on his shoulder. His head turned to me slowly, and his next words drove shards of ice straight into my heart.  
“Why on earth would I want to be your friend?”  
With that, he was gone, and I thanked the stars that I was at least able to wait until he was out of sight before I started crying.

*

As the memories run through my mind, I slowly realise I never actually let go of Ben’s hand. Ben Solo, head of Finance, but also Ben Solo, rude, mean asshole who made me cry in an empty classroom.  
Ben Solo, who doesn’t even remember me at all.  
Clenching my jaw, I snatch my hand out of his stupid giant one. I smooth down my skirt primly and make sure to look right into his eyes.  
“Well. Perhaps I’m getting you mixed up with someone else. The Ben Solo I was thinking of was, honestly, pretty rude and inconsiderate.”  
Both him and Mr Hux look taken aback. I try not to let my gaze waver.  
“Right.” Ben’s eyes search mine slightly, suddenly seeming worried. Yep, he definitely thinks I’m insane.  
“I’m sure you’re not like that, Mr Solo.”  
I think he almost smiles. Almost. “No… Of course not.”  
My smile is long gone. “Good.”  
And with that, I sit down and pointedly start opening my emails. I make sure not to look up from my screen as I feel, rather than see, them start to slowly edge away from me, on to the next row of desks, the next load of introductions. I take a victorious bite of what’s left of my croissant, itching to tell Finn all about what I would call a fairly successful interaction over lunch later. Just as I’m about to swallow my last bite, I hear it.  
“Oh, Rey?”  
I jolt back in my chair as I realize Ben Solo has walked back to stand only a few feet away from me, his eyes boring down into mine.  
I swallow loudly, sounding like a cartoon character. “Yes?”  
He’s remembered me, I’m sure of it. My heart starts pounding, and I think it’s only partly because of how truly amazing he looks now in that suit and only slightly because of how I can just about make out his scent from here, the smell of sage and honey-  
“You don’t have to call me Mr Solo. Ben is fine.”  
I feel my ears burn. Right. He still has no idea who I am. He just thinks I’m some insane assistant at his new office, who he will probably avoid in the hallways whenever possible.  
I cross my legs as I turn to face him properly, and I notice his eyes dart down as the slit in my pencil skirt slides up to reveal a hint of my thigh. His eyes quickly return to mine, but I notice a twitch in his jaw.  
Interesting.  
“I think I’ll stick to Mr Solo if that’s alright with you. It’s what I’m used to with Mr Hux and the other heads of business. I wouldn’t want to treat anyone differently, or it could get confusing.”  
I’m not trying to be his friend anymore, and I want him to know it. My pride is bruised, but this is my chance to be professional and maybe take back a bit of my dignity.  
His eyes bore into mine, the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “OK. If that’s what would make you feel more- comfortable.”  
“It really would. Thanks.” I pause. “Mr Solo.”  
“Sure.” His eyes soften slightly as he says, “It really was nice to meet you… Rey.”  
With a final look at me, he turns and makes his way back to where Mr Hux is waiting, glaring at me.  
I’m left breathless at my desk, trying to focus on my emails as my brain reels to extrapolate the details of that last interaction.  
My face is flushed, my heart is racing, and on repeat in my head I can hear that warm, fireplace voice, saying my name…  
I slam my face into my cool palms and groan. What the fuck is going on with Ben Solo?


	2. A Very Cute Stegosaurus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey catches up Finn on her awkward morning and makes a horrifying discovery.

“And then he goes,” I put on my deepest man-voice. “’It was really nice to meet you…” I pause for effect as Finn stares at me over the table, enraptured.

“…Rey.”

“Wow.” He takes a bite of his sandwich. “And then?”

“He just walked away.”

“Wow.”

I take a sip of my cherry soda. Finn and I are sat at our usual table in the work canteen during our lunch break. I had spent all morning itching to tell Finn about my encounter with Ben Solo – noon couldn’t have come soon enough.

On days like this, I truly thanked my lucky stars that I got to work with my best friend. Finn had gotten hired into the tech team here right out of university and had referred me for a highly sought-after editorial job. The rest is history.

Finn hadn’t disappointed as I recounted my awkward morning– he had hung onto my every word, mouth agape as I described in detail every uncomfortable moment.

Once I’m done, he goes quiet for a moment, deep in thought as he chews. Then, finally: “You know that’s kind of sexy, right?”

I flush furiously, running a hand through my hair, feeling strands come loose from my buns. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not sexy to be rude.” I don’t tell him about how the sound of Ben saying my name hadn’t stopped playing on repeat in my mind all morning.

Finn scoffs. “Sure. ‘Mr Solo.’ Dear God. You know, I think you might be into him.”

My cheeks grow even hotter. “I am not into him. I don’t even know him.”

“But you _were_ into him.”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, since he seemed completely repulsed by me when he turned me down.”

“Yeah.” He rips open a bag of crisps, offering them to me. “That was a dick move.”

I grab a handful of crisps and nod enthusiastically, glad to be back in safe conversational territory. “Yes, it was!”

“Wasn’t that the day that all those roses were delivered to your room?”

I think back, and realise Finn is right. I had come back to my university halls that afternoon, face still streaked with tears, to find a giant bouquet of white roses resting outside my door. The card had only said ten simple words, unsigned:

_You are so beautiful. I just wanted you to know._

Finn waggles his eyebrows at me now. “Your secret admirer.”

“It was not a secret admirer. It was definitely my ex. I asked him about it at that end of year party, and he admitted it.”

“Oh?” Finn raises his eyebrows. “Douchey Jeff? Doesn’t seem like something he would do. I do not miss him, by the way.”

“I guess he thought a big romantic gesture would win be back.” I sigh. “Anyway. I don’t know what to do about this Ben Solo thing. How could he have just forgotten me? And he must think I’m such a weirdo.”

Finn scoffs. “Those buns probably didn’t help.”

“What! I thought you said my buns were cute and unique!”

“You look like a stegosaurus. At least you got rid of those hideous giant jumpers you used to live in during uni.”

I put my hand to my scalp self-consciously, making a mental note to maybe put my hair down next time Ben was around. Wait, what am I thinking? Why do I suddenly care what he thinks about my hair?

“Besides,” Finn says, bringing me back to reality. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll never see him. He’ll be in his little glass office on the other side of the building, you’ll be in your little cubicle over in Editorial, and you will probably never see him unless we have a company briefing.”

“Yeah, I know… I just-” I bite my thumbnail. “I just can’t believe he really forgot me. Am I really so unmemorable?”

Finn smiles at me gently and pinches my cheek. “Of course, you’re memorable, Rey. A very cute, memorable little stegosaurus. He’s just an ass. Now, eat your damn lunch.”

I smile back at him warmly and take a big bite of my cheese sandwich.

“You’re the best friend ever,” I tell him through a mouthful of bread and cheddar.

“You’re disgusting,” he replies, but I can tell he doesn’t mean it. “Don’t let him get in your head. If he doesn’t see how great you are, then he’s an idiot.”

“He is an idiot!” I nearly shout it, a sense of relief flooding through me. Perhaps it really is that simple. I take another big bite of sandwich.

Finn is right. I’ll probably never even speak to Ben Solo again anyway.

*

As I walk back to my desk, a sense of foreboding and dread starts to settle in my belly. You know that feeling when you just know something really, really bad is going to happen?

The feeling only intensifies when I come around a corner and notice that the desk opposite mine (the one that has been empty ever since one of the other editorial assistants, Karen, went on maternity leave a few months ago) is occupied. I’m immediately annoyed, because the desk being empty meant I could actually see one of the few windows in the office from my chair.

My annoyance turns to sheer horror as soon as I start to take in the appearance of my new desk mate. Dark hair, black suit, a frame so broad that the chair looks almost comically small under him-

“Shit.” I breathe it aloud without meaning to.

Why the hell is Ben Solo sat at the desk opposite mine?

Trying not to panic, I take a few quiet steps forward. Ben is hunched over his keyboard – I can see he’s trying to fill out an HR questionnaire on his computer, banging the keys with increased frustration. So, he’s already in a bad mood. Even better.

“Um.”

He freezes, and then begins to turn towards me slowly in his spinning chair, his jaw already set hard.

“Ah. Rey, is it?”

Wow, he had already forgotten me. Again.

“Yes. Hi. I must say I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Or so close by.” I would never usually be so cold. I would usually greet a new desk mate with a big grin, probably a cookie. But with Ben, I feel like every smile I give has the risk of resulting in complete rejection and embarrassment. Funny, that.

He coughs uncomfortably. “No. Neither was I.”

I fidget, avoiding his eye-line. “Right. Does the head of Finance not get his own office these days?”

I can _feel_ his look turn to a glare even if I can’t see it. “Well. He certainly should. Unfortunately, it seems that it hasn’t been properly set up for me yet, and this was the only other available desk.”

I close my eyes in defeat. Of course. Of course, this would happen to me, today, on what is turning into the worst day of all time. “Right.”

“So.”

“Yes.”

I risk a glance to his eyes, and I’m surprised to see that he looks… embarrassed. Vulnerable, somehow. I relent and risk a small smile.

“Well, anyway, welcome to the desk block. I bring in a lot of baked treats, just to warn you.”

After a slight pause, he sets his mouth in a hard line, turning away from me. “I don’t think I’ll be partaking in any of your _baked treats_ ”-he says it like it’s a dirty word- “but I assume you won’t be noisy? I’ll have a lot of important calls to make.”

My face burns. Serves me right. I can’t believe I offered him my baked treats. He really is a total jerk. “I can assure you I’ll be quiet as a mouse, Mr Solo.”

He briefly looks into my eyes, and I see a flash of - something. It goes by too quick for me to identify it. He sighs.

“OK. Good.”

And he turns back to his computer – a clear signal that our conversation, from his point of view, had ended.

My hands shaking with annoyance, I manage to walk past him and sink down into my chair. To my dismay I have an extremely clear view of his face, even from behind my monitor, and so I have to force myself to keep my eyes on my screen as I open my emails. I try to calm myself down, but after half an hour I decide I can’t let that conversation hang in the air any longer.

“Uh – Mr Solo?”

He looks up at me, his face tense. “Yes?” I realise he had been scribbling in a notebook when I’d interrupted him – I’d bet my life it was one of those same black Moleskines he used to carry in his university satchel. The thought hardens my gaze.

“Do you have any idea how long this… arrangement will last?”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m not sure. There’s some kind of issue with the wiring. It could be a few weeks.”

I nod, my stomach sinking. “OK. Sorry.”

I go back to my work, but I feel his eyes on me. It feels like he wants to say something else.

Finally, I hear it, although it’s so quick and so quiet I almost miss it –

“ _I’m_ sorry.”

My head snaps up. “Hmm?”

His gaze bores into mine, and my heart rate quickens. Something is burning behind his eyes, some emotion I can’t identify. How can his face give so much away without telling me anything at all?

After a pause, he shakes his head. “Nothing.”

And just like that, he puts his head back down and starts tapping at his keyboard as if I don’t exist.

I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to write a blurb for a new manuscript that’s just come in, but most of my energy is spent trying not to glance over at my new desk mate. Sometimes, out of the corner of my eyes, I swear I can feel him staring at me again.

I sigh as I shut down my computer at the end of a particularly unproductive day. I shrug into my beige duffle coat and start to walk towards the exit. Before I lose my nerve, I turn to Ben. “See you tomorrow, Mr Solo.”

He runs his hand through his hair but doesn’t turn to face me. “Bye.”

I bite down on my bottom lip to repress a sigh, before turning to the exit.

“And, Rey?”

I spin back towards him, my heart in my throat. “Yes?”

His gaze meets mine and it surprises me with its softness. “Get home safe.”

I stare back at him like a complete idiot until he eventually turns back to his computer. I run his words over in my head as I head to the exit.

As I finally leave the building, I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding in.

This is going to be a rough couple of weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! this was another scene-setting/slightly filler chapter but do not fear, we should be getting to some fun, angsty nonsense soon. see you then! :)


	3. Three Times Our Hands Touched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of three moments during Ben's first week at work in which it almost seems like these two crazy kids might be able to work things out.

  
  


1\. tuesday  
  


Ben is already here when I arrive at 8:30 in the morning, which irritates me because I am always first in. It's how I get away with eating breakfast at my desk every day without bothering everyone with my loud chewing.

I glance over at him as I walk past. Turns out he drinks his coffee black, which doesn't surprise me. Black like his suits, his heart, etc. He definitely has a signature style, I'll give him that.

After a good night's sleep, I've been able to reflect on my new situation and have come to decide on the following plan: I will do as he has apparently done, and will forget our previous encounters at university, in order to continue living my life without feeling constantly humiliated by his sheer presence. I will treat Ben like anyone else in the office in order to preserve my sanity.

This lovely Tuesday morning with the two of us briefly alone in the office seems like a perfect place to start.

"Morning!" I call over sunnily as I plonk myself down into my chair.

He looks over at me, his eyes oddly guarded, before nodding, taking a sip of his coffee, and looking back at his screen.

Hmm, bad start. I try again.

"How are you?"

He coughs. "I'm…fine."

I frown, feeling daring. "You sure?"

His eyes meet mine again, and he hesitates. "Yes. Well. I can't seem to get this network folder open, but I'm sure I-"

"Oh!" Before I can stop to think I have jumped out of my chair, walked over to him and am crouched down next to him. My hand grabs for his mouse and instead collides with rough, long fingers.

"Oh- uh-" he snatches his hand away, exhaling sharply.

"S-sorry!" I force an awkward laugh – it feels like my hand has been burned. I finally grab his mouse and lean over his monitor. To my delight, I see that he has already changed his wallpaper to a photo of a dog – a big, shaggy sheepdog panting up at the camera. I bite my lip to hold in a smile and feel Ben's eyes on my face – probably annoyed that I'm snooping rather than helping.

"Anyway – all you need to do is just click over to this bit, and then make sure that's selected, and it should- yep, there you go!"

I lean back and stand back up, feeling very satisfied with myself. I glance over at Ben and to my surprise he looks completely tense, his entire body pushed as far back into his chair as it will go. I try and subtly sniff myself – do I smell sweaty from my walk in?

He exhales slowly, not looking at me. "Thanks, but I could have probably figured that out on my own."

I frown down at him. "But-"

"You can go now."

Baffled, I nod, and slowly, I make my way back to my desk. I spend the rest of the morning avoiding his eye-line, wondering where I went wrong this time.  
  


2\. thursday  
  


"Rey?"

I look up sharply – I had been totally sucked into my crime podcast, which I'd been listening to through earbuds while replying to some emails at my desk. Ben is standing to my right, holding a mug in his hand. It says Harry Styles' Future Wife on it in pink bubble letters. I immediately snort-laugh, and before I can second-guess myself I blurt out, "You have good taste!"

"What?" He looks genuinely bewildered before following my eye-line to his mug. "Oh." I swear I catch a hint of a smile. "Not mine, just a spare one from the kitchen. I keep meaning to bring one in from home."

"It's nice."

"Mmm, well. It'll do I suppose. It successfully holds hot liquids."

"If you ever need a mug-" I open my desk drawer to reveal my impressive collection of approximately 12 mugs, all in different sizes and shapes- "feel free to borrow one."

His mouth drops open. "You have a lot of mugs."

"I do indeed. But they all have a distinct purpose. In my mind, at least."

"Is that right?"

He picks up a large, rounded one with a picture of an elephant on the side.

"For eating cereal out of," I say, as if it's obvious.

He actually smiles. "Of course. And this one?". He's pointing to an elegant china teacup.

My smile falters. "That was my mum's, so, it's my cup for drinking camomile tea out of when I'm sad."

His gaze lingers on mine, softening. "Ah, right." He coughs, and I flush – what an odd thing to reveal to a superior, let alone to someone who seems completely repulsed by me.

Seemingly hoping to change the subject, his attention turns back to my collection. Suddenly, his eyebrows shoot up.

"Uh- and this one?"

I'm momentarily lost in thoughts about my mum, but I eventually turn look at the mug he's pointing to and immediately want to die. It's a big black mug, right at the back of collection, that says in big pink glittery letters: "DADDY'S GIRL."

"Oh God-"

"What's this one for?" He picks it up and inspects it, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was teasing me. "Let me guess, this is the mug you drink out of to remind me of your father. That's so sweet."

"Ah…" I struggle to formulate a response, my entire face red as a tomato, and for as long as I live I will never know why what comes out of my mouth to Ben Solo next is the truth: "A gift from my ex, I'm afraid to say. I really need to not keep that in my desk at work."

Ben freezes, the awful mug hanging from his fingertip lamely. Suddenly, he's looking at it like it's covered in toxic waste. "I see. Hmm."

This is it. This is how it ends. I'll just melt and sink into my chair and blend into the hideous beige carpet, an eternal coffee stain on the memory of civilisation. Here lies Rey, who embarrassed herself into oblivion.

For some reason, I want to tell Ben that the ex who gave it to me, Jeff ("Douchey Jeff", as Finn calls him) was a complete ass, and that the moment he'd given me that mug as a "joke" as his only gift to me on our 3 year anniversary had been the first moment I suspected we weren't going to work out. I almost do tell him, but to my relief, he takes pity on me and breaks the silence first, placing the offending mug back down on my desk gently. "And which one is for your afternoon cup of tea?" He gestures to the Twinings tag hanging out of his mug. "That's why I came over. I'm heading to the kitchen and thought you might want some."

"Oh!" I break into a smile. "That's so- "

"My boss suggested I should try and assimilate into office culture and that doing the occasional tea round might be a good way to do that."

My smile drops. "Ah. I see." Of course, he wasn't just getting one for me as some kind of peace offering. That would be silly. "Well, in answer to your question, when it comes to an afternoon pick-me-up, there can be only one."

I reach into my cabinet and select a big simple white mug with a huge yellow smiley face on one side. It always cheers me up, even when a certain very tall co-worker for some reason feel the need to constantly remind me that he still have no interest in being friends.

He looks a bit embarrassed as he takes the mug from my hand - he seems to be trying not to touch me. His hands are so big that, despite his efforts, it's unavoidable, and I feel a spark of energy as his fingers brush against mine. I let out a sharp breath and look down as I feel my cheeks heat up.

He coughs. "Good mug."

"Thanks."

And he's off, my cup held tightly in his hand. I turn back to my emails and realise I never told him how I take my tea. I'll still drink it, even though I'm sure he won't put in any sugar and will taste disgusting.

He returns a few minutes later and gently rests my mug down on my coaster, careful not to spill any. It's strangely endearing.

I look up at him, and even if he was only doing it out of a sense of obligation, I appreciate it. "Thank you, Mr Solo. I'll get you next time."

He pauses. "No, I don't think there's any need for that."

I falter. "Oh. Well, thank you anyway."

He nods and goes back to his desk. After blowing on the hot liquid and finally taking a sip, I'm surprised to find it's as sweet and delicious as any of my usual cuppas. Two teaspoons of white sugar and a dash of milk, I would bet my life on it - exactly how I like it.

I gaze over at him as I drink, and I wonder if Ben Solo is paying a lot more attention than he lets on.  
  


3\. friday   
  


My favourite part of Friday is heading to the office gym at 5 pm. I go running or do a home workout nearly every day, but there's something special about my Friday afternoon routine – the gym is always nearly empty (because who would hang around after work on a Friday?) and it gets me excited for a lazy weekend ahead.

Unfortunately, on this particular Friday afternoon, the gym very nearly empty – with the exception of the hulking figure of, you guessed it, Ben Solo. It seems impossible to avoid this guy these days.

I let out an involuntary huff, like a child. It alerts him to my presence, and he looks similarly displeased – he probably doesn't appreciate his solitary gym session being encroached on any more than I do. His eyes travel up and down my outfit, and I find myself wishing I was wearing some sleek Nike two-piece outfit and not an old t-shirt of Finn's tied in a knot at my waist over a pair of cheap bicycle shorts.

I give him a polite smile and a nod and make my way over to the weights. I try not to look at him as I walk past, but to my dismay he is wearing a t-shirt and I can't help but stare at the way his muscles bulge under those tight sleeves, those _arms_ -

Catching myself, I automatically look back up at his face and find him already staring back at me. He definitely caught me checking him out, and I feel my face heat under his gaze. He looks away first, but not before I catch what I think might be another rare smile. 

Kicking myself, I install myself at a weight bench and start lifting, determined to take out my annoyance at getting caught perving on my nemesis. I'm being reckless, choosing heavier weights than usual – partly because I'm full of pent up energy and partly, I'll admit, because I'm hoping Ben will look over and be impressed that my pint-sized self can lift 100 pounds. These guns didn't come out of nowhere, after all.

I glance over at him, and see he's moved further away, deeply focussed on his deadlifts. I remove an earbud, and the sound of his workout-grunts fills the room. I feel a sharp, warm tug in my stomach that I don't care to think too much about, but simultaneously, a sudden sense of competition.

Before I know what I'm doing, I lift the weights above me and let out tentative "huh."

Ben doesn't look over – clearly his mind is elsewhere. But I could have sworn his next grunt was slightly louder.

I take it as a challenge and risk a slightly louder noise with my next lift.

Still nothing. Clearly I'll have to step things up.

On a mission, I walk over and pick up the next heaviest set of weights. It's more than I've ever lifted, but I'm buzzing, full to brim of anger and frustration – I can't stop now.

I lay back down on the weight bench and try a lift – I can barely make it, my arms shaking, but I'm enjoying pushing myself, so I keep going. As I look over again at Ben, hearing his positively filthy noises of exertion fill the confined space, I decide I'm going to have to take things up a notch. It's a game I'm pretty sure only I am playing, but for some reason I feel like I have to win.

As I lift up the heaviest weight I've ever held directly above my head, I let out a full, borderline pornographic moan.

And then, a yelp of pain as my arms start to give out.

My elbows fold in and I can see the weight coming down towards my face. I squeeze my eyes shut, ready for impact. Miraculously, it doesn't come.

Suddenly I feel rough, warm fingers on mine as the weights are yanked back and out of hands, and I open my eyes to meet the hard stare of Ben Solo. I have no idea how he made it across the room so fast, but I'm immensely grateful that he did. I open my mouth to thank him but, but he stops me in my tracks.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

His voice snaps through the room like a rubber band, hitting me in the face as if he'd physically slapped me. My breath is still ragged from the shock of nearly dropping the weights on myself, and I stare back up at him, wide eyed.

"You're acting like a complete idiot, do you realise that?" His eyes burn into mine, his chest rising and falling with deep, panting breaths, matching my own. I realise that his face is only inches from mine, my head pressed into the weight bench as he kneels on the ground beside me. 

Slowly, in a creeping, black fog, a sick feeling fills my stomach.

Suddenly it all seems so silly. I've been playing this imaginary game in my head, stealing glances, trying so hard to connect in some small way, to get some kind of proof I'm not the loser he turned down back at uni. But he is my co-worker. He is my superior. He rejected me, and then he forgot me, and in this present moment, he has just told me what I should have known all along – that he thinks I am completely ridiculous, and that will never change.

It's time to stop.

"You're right," I say quietly. "I'm so sorry."

I get up, trying desperately not to meet his eyes, as I walk as quickly as I can towards the exit. Inexplicably, tears are prickling at my eyes – I blame it on the shock of nearly concussing myself.

I push the door open, my face red with shame.

"Rey," I hear him say, his voice quiet.

But the door is already swinging shut behind me as the tears of embarrassment start to trickle down my cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, more angst and misunderstandings to come soon! :)


	4. Friendly Co-Workers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey wants to fix things and takes Ben aside for a private conversation.

The weekend that follows is not a pleasant one. No matter what I do, whether it's knitting a scarf, baking multiple trays of brownies, or binge-watching an entire Netflix crime documentary series, I can't get the image of Ben's incredulous face as he stared down at me on that weight bench out of my head. I'm too embarrassed to even vent about it to Finn, so when he and Poe invite me over for a board game night I make up an excuse, crawl back into bed and bury myself under a pile of blankets.

By the time Monday morning rolls back around, I've managed to whip myself into an anxious frenzy. And to think, a mere week ago I had such simple problems, like running out of cotton pads or washing my cashmere cardigan wrong and it shrinking to the size of a child's sock. Now I have such bizarre worries I'm not even 100% sure what my problem even is. Am I upset because I embarrassed myself in front of a superior? Am I angry because he hurt my feelings a long time ago and doesn't seem to feel bad about it, disproving the internal belief I've always had that people are inherently good?

Or am I freaking out because a part of me really, _really_ just wants Ben to like me, even though I don't fully understand why?

I bite my lip, clenching the cup of what's left of my morning coffee as I walk out onto the Editorial floor, towards my desk block. I can already see the top of his head, visible above the rows and rows of desks. He beat me to work, as usual.

I know I behaved inappropriately, and I know that my lapses in judgement could result in serious consequences if I'm not careful. It's time to set things right.

"Ben?"

He spins towards me in his chair, his face guarded. "Rey-"

"Could we talk for a second? In private?"

His eyes widen. Oh no. I've made it worse. It sounds like a completely insane thing to ask for, especially since the floor is still basically empty anyway.

I falter. "I mean, we don't have to, if-"

"No, that's- that's probably a good idea." He gets up from his desk, letting out a heavy sigh, and follows me dutifully to an empty meeting room.

I step inside and he closes the door behind us. I wait for him to walk closer towards me, but he stays facing the door, seemingly frozen there. Maybe he's scared to turn around in case I launch myself at him or something. I flush. I suppose I can't blame him, after the way I've acted.

Eventually, I decide to just start talking.

"I just wanted to say that I'm so sorry about the way I acted on Friday afternoon. I'm totally embarrassed, and I hope it goes without saying that nothing like that will happen again. I also really hope that you don't feel like you have to report me to HR, but I understand-"

"...Report you to HR?"

I risk a glance over at him. He's still facing the door, but he has his face in his hand, rubbing his nose bridge between his two fingers like he has a migraine coming on.

"That's what you think? That I'm going to report you?"

I cross my arms to cover up how much they're shaking. "You would be well within your rights to-"

"Rey." He finally turns back towards me, but immediately starts pacing frantically, running his hand through his hair. "That is the most- the most ridiculous thing-"

"I just- I was trying to be friendly, and I went about it completely wrong. I can see that now. It was unprofessional, and inappropriate, and-"

"Rey." His voice booms as he takes two long strides towards me, suddenly inches away. His eyes bore into mine, searching for…something. When he's met with my complete confusion, his hands come down on my shoulders, and I nearly shudder as his warmth seeps through my thin blouse.

"I should apologise to _you_. I should never have shouted at you like that. You did nothing wrong, other than being slightly irresponsible in your weightlifting practices, and I'm very sorry that my lack of self-control has elicited this reaction in you."

I bite down on my lip. "Thank you… for saying that. But-"

"What do you even think I would report you for?" His eyes still haven't left mine, concern pulling his eyebrows together.

I let out a shaky sigh. His fingers are tightening on my shoulders without him realising and I feel like I'm going to be squished flat.

"…Sexual harassment?"

He freezes. "Sexual harassment."

I nod, tears prickling at my eyes. The whole scenario had been playing over and over in my head all weekend – how _I_ would have felt if some creepy male executive I had no interest in had been deliberately making sex noises to get my attention while I had been working out.

I can't meet his eyes anymore, so I just stare at the floor, waiting for whatever horrible thing he's going to snap back at me with this time.

To my complete shock, I instead hear a completely alien sound. It takes me a second to even identify it, it's so unfamiliar.

Ben is _laughing._

I look back up and his entire body shakes with mirth, his hands slipping from my shoulders to run his hands through his hair again. I can't help but crack a small smile – something about seeing him happy still hasn't lost its effect on me. I feel like I'm been smacked in the face with sunshine.

"Rey…you really are…" He struggles for breath, slowly sinking into one of the meeting room chairs. "Oh…you are really something else." I think I might have broken his brain.

I stay standing and look down at him. It feels nice to not be craning my head up to look at him, with him glaring down at me for once. For the first time since he started working here, I don't feel like a complete idiot next to him. I feel like, just maybe…

"Ben… could we just, start again? I know I went about things completely wrong, but all I wanted- I'd just like to be friends."

The rest of his laughter leaves him in a sigh, and he starts rubbing his face with his hands again.

"Friends." He weighs the words in the air. "I'm sorry, I don't know if I can do that, Rey."

"Oh." I swallow. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at this point. "Do you not… like having friends at work?"

He chuckles. "Yeah, let's say that."

"OK…" I suppose Ben Solo's inner workings will continue to remain a mystery to me for the time being. "How about… friend _ly_ co-workers? Can you manage that?"

He sighs again. "What exactly would that entail?"

I hesitate. "We can make each other cups of tea sometimes. I already know you're pretty good at that."

I catch a hint of a smile, a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. It encourages me to keep going.

"When you sneeze, I can say bless you, and vice versa."

"Seems reasonable."

"We can have casual, co-workerly chit chat. Like, I could ask you how your weekend was and you can give a one word-answer."

He smiles, looking off into space for a moment. "Long."

I smile back. "See, now you're getting it."

He exhales, and slowly, looks over at me. There's something strange in his eyes – it looks almost like a surrender. After a long moment, he nods.

"OK. Friendly co-workers. I think I can handle that."

My smile transforms into a full grin. "Friendly co-workers!" I extend my hand for a handshake. He hesitates, but after a moment, he envelops my hand in his, and gives it a gentle squeeze.

A truce. I can hardly believe it.

His eyes meet mine again, testing. "In exchange, can you do just one thing for me?"

My grin falters. "…Sure. What?"

He leans in closer, his voice husky in my ear.

"Don't lift more weight than you can handle again. I don't want you getting hurt when I'm not around to save you."

I swallow loudly, my hand growing clammy in his. "Sounds fair."

He exhales slowly and pulls away from me. My hand feels cold as he releases it from his grasp. "Good. Thank you."

We stand and look at each other for a moment. I feel like we were almost back on safe ground, and he's taking me back to that strange, unfamiliar place where my feelings are confusing and alien.

After staring at me for a long moment, conflict in his eyes, he finally nods, and starts to head towards the door. I feel like I need to say something to get us back on equal footing before we head back into the real world.

"You know – if someone was to come with me to the gym and spot me… there wouldn't be a problem."

He pauses at the door, his hand frozen on the handle. I hear him chuckle darkly again.

"Don't push it, Skywalker."

With that, he's gone – and for the first time, I don't mind him getting the last word.

Friendly co-workers. Worth a try, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for lovely comments, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)


	5. The Hobnob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Friendly Co-Workers project seems to be getting off to a good start, but Mr Hux has some unwelcome advice for Rey.

_Rey Skywalker: Hi!_

_Ben Solo: Hi._

_Rey Skywalker: Our first instant messenger conversation!_

_Ben Solo: Ah, is misusing company software the new frontier in this stage of our relationship as friendly co-workers?_

_Rey Skywalker: You got it! But don't worry, my messaging has a purpose. And I assure you, it's entirely business related._

_Ben Solo: Oh, my apologies. Please, proceed with your query._

_Rey Skywalker: Thank you._

_Rey Skywalker: Do you any Hobnobs left?_

_Ben Solo: …_

_Ben Solo: How do you know about my biscuit stash?_

_Rey Skywalker: Please. I can smell an oat-y chocolatey treat a mile away, and it's not like you can eat them silently. Why, are they supposed to be a secret?_

_Ben Solo: Sort of. I don't eat a lot of junk food._

_Rey Skywalker: Well, obviously._

_Ben Solo: Why obviously?_

_Rey Skywalker: Stop changing the subject. Do you confirm or deny the presence of leftover Hobnobs in your desk?_

_Ben Solo: I think you'll find you're the one changing the subject._

_Rey Skywalker: That's it, I'm coming over._

A few minutes later, as I dunk my hard-won Hobnob into my afternoon cup of tea, I let a little smile creep over my face. Who thought this week would start with me and Ben Solo on positively pleasant terms?

"Something funny, Rey?"

The unfriendly, clipped tone of Mr Hux comes from my right. He's on one of his bizarre patrols of the Editorial floor that he keeps trying to convince us all are normal.

"Nope. Just enjoying my biscuit and tea while updating some spreadsheets, sir."

"Yes, we can always expect to find you eating something at your desk, Rey. You'd better watch out – a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips, right?"

I blink, not sure how to respond. I'm not insecure about my body, but having a superior comment on my weight and eating habits like that feels slightly wrong. I'm sure the familiar pink stain is sweeping over my cheeks.

Searching for a response, I glance over at Ben. He's staring at his screen, apparently not listening. Huh.

I eventually build my courage back up snap back at Mr Hux. "I'm sorry, sir? Is there a problem with me eating at my desk?"

Mr Hux glares down at me, clearly annoyed. "For now, take it as a piece of friendly advice. You might be able to get away with it while you're young, but you won't be young forever. You should really consider putting more effort into your diet. And your appearance in general, while we're at it."

Shock quickly gives way to anger. I hear a snapping noise to my left, and turn to see Ben still just sitting there, eyes not straying from his computer. I look for the source of the noise and notice that the pencil he is holding in his hand is in two pieces. I don't have time to figure that out right now.

I try and stop my voice from getting louder, but I'm having trouble controlling my temper. "Mr Hux, with all due respect, I don't see how-"

But before I can finish, Ben's voice interrupts me, his voice quiet but authoritative. "I would advise you to manage your tone when speaking to a superior, Rey."

I freeze. My mouth hangs open, my heart hammering in my chest with anger. Despite myself, I feel completely betrayed, although I shouldn't have expected any different. To hell with friendly co-workers, I guess.

I've never been one to back down from a fight, but I can't risk losing my job.

Resigned, I nod, tears prickling at my eyes.

"You're right. I'm sorry, Mr Hux. I'll keep your…advice...in mind."

He gives me a horrible, smug smile, before glancing over at Ben approvingly. "Please do."

And he's walking off, his back stiff, his head held high. I slowly spin back towards my computer, feeling everyone's pitying eyes on me. As I look at the rest of the biscuit sitting on my desk, I can't imagine anything I want to eat less. I sadly sweep it into my office wastepaper bin, biting my lower lip to stop it from wobbling.

_I will not cry at my desk, I will not cry at my desk-_

"Actually, Armitage? Could I speak to you for a second?"

Ben's voice startles me as I run my cool hand over my face. Armitage… it takes me a second. Oh God. Mr Hux's first name.

My head snaps up in time to see Ben walking away from me and along the rows of desks towards Mr Hux, who has stopped in his tracks to let him catch up. They start walking away together and I can't hear the rest of their conversation. They slowly leave my view.

I run my hand through my hair. Perhaps they're friends. Perhaps Ben has changed his mind about reporting me to HR. Perhaps they're bonding over their apparent mutual hatred for me.

I sigh. I really thought things were going to be different.

I'll write to some authors. That always cheers me up.

I flip my notebook open, wondering if maybe there's a nugget of truth in what Mr Hux is saying. Maybe I do need to get it together. Maybe I do eat too many sweet treats.

When Ben casually sits back down at his desk opposite me without a word a few minutes later, I say nothing, making sure to avoid his eye-line. From now on, we will just be silent co-workers who never speak. I'm done trying with someone who is never going to give anything back.

An hour later, an email pings into my inbox that sends a rush of horror down my spine.

_FROM: HR_   
_SUBJECT LINE: A reminder about appropriate conversations in the workplace_

Had I guessed right? Had Ben reported me after all, after a chat with his new bestie Hux? My gaze snaps towards him, my sense of betrayal no doubt already written all over my face. He was already looking at me – his eyes are tentative. When he sees my expression, he glances away, looking almost embarrassed.

Feeling ill, I open the email. I notice right away that the email is addressed to everyone in the company, not just me. Oh, God.

Taking a deep breath, I start to skim the email. After a moment, my dread turns to confusion.

" _This is a friendly reminder that the appearance and personal habits of your co-workers are not appropriate topics for conversation in the workplace, particularly not when that discussion is happening between superiors and their employees. Further, appearance and personal habits should not be considered as factors for professional evaluation if they are not directly affecting the performance of said employee."_

"Oh no." I breathe it aloud without meaning to. I notice people are starting to look at me again.

"Something wrong?" I look up at the sound of Ben's voice. It's softer than usual – he looks genuinely concerned.

I temporarily forget to shun him. "Have you seen this email from HR?"

"Uh, yes."

"Well, I didn't send a complaint to HR."

"…OK."

"People are going to think I did."

"Ah. Well-"

"Mr Hux is going to kill me. Oh my-"

"Rey, no, listen-"

But before I can finish my sentence, I feel rather than see someone approach me from behind. I look up to see the very unwelcome face of Mr Hux, again. I close my eyes and exhale, waiting for those fatal words, _clean out your desk…_

"Rey. I just came over to… personally apologise for my comments earlier. My behaviour was inappropriate, and I hope you can forgive me."

I'm gobsmacked. I've never heard Mr Hux apologise for anything. As I look more closer at his face, I notice he looks even paler than usual – he looks _ill._ Something has seriously shaken him up.

"Oh- Mr Hux-"

His voice drops to a whisper. "I hope the note I anonymously sent to HR about the situation will prevent anyone else from making my mistake."

I pause. "The note _you_ sent?"

"Yes. I don't want anyone who might have witnessed our conversation to get the wrong idea about… how to behave in the workplace. I set a bad example. Again, Rey, I can only apologise."

His words sound strange –almost scripted. I narrow my eyes in suspicion.

"Well, Mr Hux… I appreciate that, thank you."

He nods, and I see his eyes slide over to look behind me. I turn slightly and see his gaze meet Ben's. They just stare at each other for a moment, and finally, Ben nods.

Mr Hux sighs. "OK. Great. Well, I've done my part. I trust that this won't come up again."

His change in tone irritates me, but I decide to let it go anyway. I can't even believe he's actually apologised- I should quit while I'm ahead.

I nod. "Absolutely. Consider it forgotten."

He smiles tightly, but I see that same pure hatred in his eyes. "Fantastic."

He strides away, and I release the breath I didn't realise I was holding. I have no idea what has just happened. This is such a strange day.

I delete the HR email from my inbox, and look over at the clock. Nearly 5:00pm. Thank goodness for that.

It's only as I pack up my things that all the pieces slot together in my brain. Mr Hux's look to Ben. The email, his oddly stilted tone, their conversation-

I let out a quiet laugh. I feel Ben glance up as me.

"Mr Solo."

"…Yes?"

"What did you do?"

He chuckles nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you so do."

"I really don't."

"Well, it certainly seemed like Mr Hux had an epiphany after our conversation. I wonder what could have brought him to such a sudden change of heart."

"Who knows. I suppose threatening to report him to the CEO could have had that effect."

My eyes widen. "What?"

Ben looks away, looking embarrassed again. "But as I said, I didn't do anything, so… I wouldn't know."

I sit frozen in my chair, my mind reeling. Ben Solo fought for me. I feel a rush of heat in my chest, but I'm still angry.

"You know, I don't usually need people to fight my battles for me." I pause. "Actually, you know what, I would also prefer that people didn't throw me under the bus during the actual battle, only do to a sneaky thing later where it turns out they actually are on my side. I find that very confusing. And kind of weird."

Ben definitely looks embarrassed now. He brushes his fingers through his hair, agitated. "I don't doubt for a second that you can fight your own battles. And I'm sorry for not doing anything at the time, and for acting so strange. In a perfect world, I would have let you go ahead and tell him exactly what you think of his...comments. But, he's - volatile. And I didn't think… I didn't think it was worth losing your job over."

I think about it, and it almost makes sense. He really was trying to help. I feel a weight lift rom my chest.

Eventually, I can't hold back a little smile. "Well, whoever, did say something… that was pretty nice of them. They must be a really great guy."

His eyes meet mine again, and he smiles back at me, relieved. "Or girl. Remember, we don't know who it was."

I laugh. "Of course."

I finish packing up my bag, and slip on my coat. Even though he's always in before me, he always leaves after me as well. Making us all look bad, the jerk.

I'm not sure how to say bye to him – I feel like our relationship has completely changed multiple times in the space of 8 hours. I finally settle for a smile and a salute.

"Friendly co-workers."

He looks up, and begrudgingly, salutes back. "Friendly co-workers."

"Have a good night, Mr Solo."

"Actually, Rey, about that – it seems like, once again, you find yourself indebted to me. In light of that, I'd like to ask you for another favour."

I raise my eyebrows. "I thought it wasn't you who-"

"Shut up. So, the favour?" His tone is playful, but there's something in his eyes that makes me nervous.

"Well, let's hear what it is first."

"Oh, what are you scared I'm going to do? Say you have to be my servant for the day?"

I bite my lip, repressing a million mental images. "I'm just being cautious. Only an idiot would say yes to a favour without knowing what it was."

He laughs. I'm still not used to it when he does that. "Fair enough." He pauses, deep in thought. "Can you please stop calling me Mr Solo? Just... just Ben is fine."

I'm startled. To be honest, I had forgotten I was still calling him that out loud. In my head, he's always been Ben. "OK, sure. May I ask why?"

He considers my question for a moment. "Many reasons. I don't feel a lot of connection to my last name, mainly. Mr Solo is my dad. That's not me."

I wasn't expecting that. I feel a sudden lump in my throat. "I actually... understand."

His eyes return to mine. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah. More than you can imagine."

"Huh." He smiles. "I'm glad you get it. Not everyone does."

"And the other reasons?" I'm being nosy, and I know it, but Ben Solo is actually talking to me about himself and I'm not going to waste this opportunity.

"Uh…" His eyes avoid mine again. "I just… I don't really like it when _you_ call me that. You specifically."

"Oh?"

"It just feels… strange."

"OK." I sense he's met his sharing limit, so I back off. "Fair enough… Ben."

He smiles, his eyes thankful. "Well, have a good night…Rey."

As I head home, I can't stop replaying the events of the day, smiling despite myself. Look at how far we've come in a week – from silence and glaring to jokes! Actual, friendly jokes!

And the best and most confusing part of all. I bite down on my lip, feeling something that feel suspiciously like butterflies in my stomach.

_Ben Solo fought for me._

Why would he do that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay with this one - took a little break but excited to be back with more angst and misunderstandings than ever! See you all soon with a new chapter! :)


	6. Lost in the Inbox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have started to seem too good to be true for Rey and Ben's newfound peaceful co-existence.

To my shock, the rest of the week is… fine. Pleasant, even. Me and Ben Solo work opposite one another in quiet peace, occasionally making each other cups of tea. We even exchange jokes! And sometimes I’ll look up, catch his eye, and, get this – we’ll _smile_ at each other. Actually smile. I know, I can hardly believe it. It feels like the chaotic energy between us has settled to a gentle hum, and God, it is a relief.

On top of that, since I’m not spending so much time worrying about our dramatic antics, I’m actually somewhat getting my life together. I eat breakfast at home now, rather that at my desk, and I’ve started trying to look a bit more presentable for work. For now, that just means I’m making sure I properly brush my hair and putting on a tiny bit of mascara on the train in, but baby steps!

By Friday morning, I have that creeping anxiety blooming in my chest that is too good to last.

My workload is heavier than usual thanks to an important manuscript coming in half an hour after I sat down at my desk, so I’m frantically flipping through papers and clicking between about 25 different browser tabs when the clock ticks over to noon. My stomach is growling so loud I’m sure you can hear it from space.

_Ben Solo: Hungry?_

_Rey Skywalker: Oh God, sorry for all the noises. I think my tummy is digesting itself at this point._

_Ben Solo: No need to apologise. I’m just not used to you still being sat here at 12:02 – you’re usually off like a shot as soon as the smell of the canteen soup starts flooding into the desk block._

I let out a laugh, trying to stifle it with my hand. He really does pick up on the details.

_Rey Skywalker: It’s terrifying how accurate that is. I’m just really swamped today._

_Ben Solo: Ah, well in that case, sorry for interrupting. I’ll let you get back to it._

_Rey Skywalker: No, the distraction was appreciated. Apologies in advance for any further stomach rumblings._

At 12:10, I remember that Finn will be waiting for me at our usual table in the canteen – I should have messaged him warning him that I was going to be late beforehand. I’ve never been late before. I’m usually sat there 5 minute before him, already digging into a sandwich the size of my head.

Oh well, he’s a big boy, he’ll figure it out.

By 12:15, I’m feeling a bit less stressed. One of the production assistants has very kindly said she would check through some of the files for me, which has sliced my remaining workload in half. I might just be able to have this all sorted out before leaving today. I breathe a little sigh of relief, and, with perfect timing, my belly gives another loud rumble.

I hear a quiet chuckle, and I flush. “Something funny?” I snap.

“Someone hungry?” he retorts, and I smile.

“I am a monster. I’ve thought about keeping snacks in my desk but I worry that would just be an excuse for me to literally eat constantly.”

“Well,” he lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone, but I may have restocked my Hobnob stash this morning.”

My mouth drops open. “I thought you didn’t eat junk food.”

He looks a bit embarrassed. “I guess you’re having a bad influence on me.”

I’m delighted by this. The idea that I’m having any influence at all on Ben Solo’s lifestyle is a complete surprise.

I’m about to make fun of him more, but my stomach lets out another almighty growl.

Ben’s brow furrows. “You’re not skipping lunch because of what Armitage said, are you?”

I’m startled. “Oh God, of course not. Mr Hux's opinions on my lifestyle choices are hardly my concern.”

“Good. Because I’m sure you know that would be ridiculous. And clearly unnecessary. He’s an idiot.”

I blush – was that almost a compliment? “Thanks. But I really am just a bit snowed under. Although I think I might have bought myself 15 minutes to grab something as soon as I just send a couple more emails.”

Ben hesitates, considering something. I turn back to my computer and am back to typing manically when I hear his voice.

“We could go… together. If you want. My treat.”

My heart rate quickens slightly. Did he just ask me to lunch? Did he just offer to _buy_ me lunch?

“Oh!” I look up at him, and he’s gazing back at me, his eyes guarded. I occurs to me that he’s probably asking me out of pity, and is most likely secretly hoping I say no. But what if he isn’t? I hesitate. Could this be the first step from friendly co-workers to… friends? Or even towards the thing I’m still not fully willing to admit to myself I want – something more than that?

I open my mouth to reply, unsure what I’m actually going to say, when I hear a voice behind me.

“I have never known Rey Skywalker to be late to a meal.”

I feel a sudden pang of guilt as I turn around. “Finn. I am so sorry.”

My best friend leans on the file cabinet next to my desk, looking – thankfully – perfectly calm, and not at all annoyed. “Rey, don’t be silly. I know it must have taken a pretty big mental breakdown for you to not show up. I don’t think in our two years of working here together than you’ve ever missed lunch with me before, so I’m just glad you’re actually alive.”

I laugh, relieved. “You’re the best. Thank you for understanding.”

Finn grins, reaching into his work bag. “Oh, don’t thank me yet.” He pulls out a white packet and places it on my desk. “Ham and cheese sandwich on brown bread, no mayo?”

My stomach growls even louder, as if it knows food has entered my radius. “Oh my God Finn, you actual angel. Thank you. I could kiss you.”

He laughs. “How about you buy the popcorn for movie night tomorrow and we’ll call it even?”

“Sounds like a deal.” I really am lucky to have such a good friend in Finn. I had totally forgotten about movie night with him and Poe on Saturday – it’s Poe’s choice this time, so we’re almost definitely watching _Top Gun_ again. 

“Cool.” He smiles, and then looks up above my head, surprised. “Oh, hi, Mr Solo.”

I suddenly remember I was in the middle of a conversation with Ben when Finn arrived – he must think I’m so rude. I spin around in my chair, panicked, to find him staring at his computer screen, face carefully blank.

“Hi, uh-“

“Finn.” Finn smiles at him. “We spoke on your first day. It’s totally cool if you don’t remember, I’m sure you met a lot of people.”

I’m almost surprised Finn remembered Ben – but then again, he’s always been good with names. I haven’t mentioned him to Finn since last week – after my complaining about Ben when we first met, and I wasn’t sure Finn would understand how much our relationship had changed. I also definitely didn’t want to tell him about the Gym Incident.

“Ah, right.”

“So how come you’re still sitting out here?”

Ben's face stays carefully blank. “I’m sorry?”

Finn glances at me, his eyes narrowed. “Wasn’t your office all set up like - a week ago?”

I look over at Ben, surprised. Ben was supposed to have left his temporary desk opposite my a whole week ago?

Ben’s jaw twitches in the way I’ve come to recognise as him suppressing anger. “What makes you say that?”

“My friend Rose in IT mentioned that they fixed the wiring problem on Friday. You should have had an email-“

“Ah. Well, the email must have got lost in my inbox. My mistake.”

Finn nods, glancing over at a me again. “OK. Well, yeah, it’s all ready for you.”

Ben looks over at me as well, and for a second I see a flash of whatever emotion he’s holding back. Before I can put my finger on it, it’s gone.

“Well, what a relief. I can finally get some peace and quiet.”

I blink, hurt. I open my mouth to say something but no words come out.

Finn looks down at me, his eyes sympathetic. When he sees that I clearly don’t have a good comeback, he fills in for me. “Yeah, and hey, Rey, you can get your view of the window back, right?”

I swallow. “Yeah. Exactly. A nice change of scenery."

Ben’s eyes meet mine again, but his are completely cold. It’s like we’ve gone back to that first Monday. “Great. Well. I’ll start moving my stuff today so that by the beginning of next week I’ll be all moved over. Thanks for letting me know… Finn.”

And he gets up from his chair, walking out to the stairwell. Maybe he’s off to get some lunch, since we won’t be going together. A lump forms in my throat.

I finally look back up to meet Finn’s incredulous gaze. To my shame, as soon as my eyes meet his, tears start forming in my eyes. I really thought things were better. I really thought we had moved on from that horrible day at university. I had really thought – and it seems so stupid now – that Ben might have actually started to like me.

Finn sighs. “Well. Movie night has just been rescheduled to tonight. Because you have an awful lot to catch me up on.”


End file.
